


we are the sleepers, we bite our tongues

by bereft_of_frogs



Series: let the human in (whumptober 2020) [4]
Category: Into the Night (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hijacking, Hostage Situations, Post-Apocalypse, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27334264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereft_of_frogs/pseuds/bereft_of_frogs
Summary: “We can’t have them on board,” Ayaz insists.“Well, what are we supposed to do with them?”Jakub and Ayaz exchange another look and Sylvie begins to think she really should have stayed in her seat.The British soldiers don't go so easily.In other words, the plane is hijacked for the second time that night.
Series: let the human in (whumptober 2020) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993756
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	we are the sleepers, we bite our tongues

**Author's Note:**

> written for whumptober 2020, day 3: My Way or the Highway (held at gunpoint) 
> 
> warnings: canonical character death (that occurs just a bit differently than in canon), gun violence, mention of past sexual assault (as in canon)
> 
> fic title: 'We Sink', Of Monsters and Men

Things seem to be going well. Rather, as well as can be expected for the end of the world. They have an _actual_ pilot now to help Mathieu. Sylvie is no longer required to fly an airplane she has no business flying, and can sit in her seat like just another passenger, along for this insane ride.

Of course, that doesn’t last long.

“Sylvie,” Ayaz says, looking serious. “We have a problem.”

She sighs. “Of course we do.”

They meet Jakub in the aft galley. Sylvie tugs the curtain shut behind her. “Okay. What’s up?”

Ayaz and Jakub exchange a glance. “I looked up the place we landed. Kinloss. And I found this.” Ayaz turns on his iPad and hands it over to her. “They were not left behind by accident.”

“Shit. I remember this.” Sylvie scans the article. “This hadn’t been their first time either, but this is the one they got caught for.”

“War criminals,” Jakub says. “They weren’t left behind. They were _condemned_.”

“We can’t have them on board,” Ayaz insists.

“Well, what are we supposed to do with them?”

Jakub and Ayaz exchange another look and Sylvie begins to think she really should have stayed in her seat. Again.

She’s not necessarily comfortable with their plan. Even if the British _had_ condemned them, why should _they?_ And they were helpful. Roger could _actually_ fly the plane, and it was always good to have another mechanic on board. She doesn’t like the look of that Freddie, whose gaze lingers a little long on Gabrielle and Ines, who drinks and seems just on the edge of sanity. But John seems to be able to keep him under control. They haven’t yet posed a threat to them, they’d be foolish to do so when they’re outnumbered.

Or are they outnumbered? Sylvie turns a critical eye on her fellow passengers. At least she knows that Ayaz and Jakub are on her side. She has no idea what’s going on in Terenzio’s head, it’s likely whatever will give him the most power in this situation, and Rik seems like he’d follow him. She’s not so sure about the others, especially if they were advocating for something so extreme as banishing people from the flight. She’d like to think they’d be able to vote on it, but with this crew, she doubt it will be as civil as that.

She’s wondering if she can convince Ayaz to confront the British soldiers first, or take a less extreme course, when there are raised voices coming from behind her.

Mr. Volkov is dead. She’s now seen the violence they’re capable of. She’s seen that at least one of them is armed.

Laura is shaking. Ayaz is calm. “Just let me take him out,” he says, hands raised placatingly. Freddie’s hand shakes on the gun.

“Come on, Freddie,” John says. “Just give me the gun.”

A second more, then he does. John pats him on the shoulder and makes him sit down with Ayaz and Horst pick up Mr. Volkov’s body and carry it to the back of the plane, trailed by Laura and Gabrielle.

“Maybe we should agree to keep the guns in a neutral location,” Sylvie suggests, trying to keep her voice mild.

Something flashes across John’s face that she doesn’t like the look of. “I think I’d rather hang on to it, if it’s all the same to you.” He looks around, gaze falling on Dominik, like he’s hit upon his excuse. “We wouldn’t want the kid to get ahold of it, would we?”

“Sure,” she says. She makes eye contact with Jakub over his shoulder.

Sylvie enters the cockpit resolved. She makes her excuses for Laura and hopes Mathieu can read in her expression that they need to talk. She manages to draw him away,

“I’m going to tell you something,” Sylvie says, keeping her voice low. She glances at Roger, but he shows no sign of understanding them. “But you have to promise not to react.” Mathieu nods. And, to his credit, he does not react, only flinches a few times when Sylvie runs the peroxide over the wound a little too hard. She tries to explain as succinctly as she can. He lets the news sit for a moment when she finishes.

“So. What do we do?”

Before Sylvie can respond, Roger turns his head. “You know, they say when two people speak a foreign language around you, they’re talking about you.”

“Sorry, my English-”

“I’m kidding,” he says with a half smile. “Just a joke.”

Sylvie tries to smile back. “Right. It’s just, these medical terms…”

“Of course.” Sylvie thinks he might have a bit of suspicion in his eyes, but then he turns back to the instruments. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

She drops her voice a bit lower. “Ayaz has a plan. When we land, if we can get them into town to get a radio, we can reset the plane for takeoff before they get back. We won’t be able to get much fuel, but we can stop again before we hit the Pacific.”

Mathieu nods. “I’ll suggest it. The other passengers, do they know?”

She shakes her head. “Just Ayaz and Jakub.”

He glances at Roger’s back. “You’re sure?”

She nods. “I wasn’t, at first. But after Mr. Volkov, and some things they’ve said…I think they’re dangerous.”

“Okay. What do I need to do?”

Sylvie didn’t have much time to explain their plan. They couldn’t risk going on for much longer, even in French. If they talked for much longer Roger would undoubtably be tipped off that something was up. All Mathieu knew is that they needed an excuse to get them off the plane. He takes a deep breath, checks their positioning, and makes a casual remark about how long they have until they land in Alberta.

“We’ll need something to fix the radio,” Mathieu says. “When we land.” His voice wavers a bit. He’s hoping that it comes off as exhaustion, or as speaking in a language he’s not used to. He’d always been a terrible liar.

Roger nods. He does have a slightly odd expression on his face, like he’s thinking something over. “We will need to take your mechanic with us, of course. I wouldn’t know what we’d need to fix it.”

“Right.” Jakub knew the plan. And he was smart. He’d figure his way out of it.

“And a translator.”

Mathieu nods. “Sylvie can go. She can translate.”

“Hm.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Roger offers him a smile. “Do you mind if I stretched my legs a bit? Get some water.”

“Of course not, please.”

“Great. I’ll be right back.”

Mathieu watches him go back into the cabin, then he’s alone in the cockpit. Something feels off, but he has no concrete proof. Just a feeling of being unsettled. His head is beginning to throb, a pulse just behind his eyes.

He hopes he has done well. The others can take it from here.

The flight proceeds for a while without incident. Sylvie watches carefully as Roger comes out of the cockpit and grabs a drink of water, speaks quietly with John for a minute or so. They both seem relaxed and casual, and their conversation is not long, so Sylvie doesn’t think anything of it. Until Mathieu comes over the intercom and announces they’ll begin the descent into Alberta soon, telling them that they should take their seats soon.

Sylvie doesn’t have any warning. Just the barrel of the gun pressing into the back of her neck.

“So. You think you’re really clever, don’t you?” Freddie says in her ear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stand up,” he commands.

The others are starting to notice something is going on. Laura is closest to her, still shaken and with tears staining her cheeks, but she notices when Sylvie undoes her seatbelt and rises. She turns her head and her eyes go wide with shock.

“What’s going on?” she says in French, then repeats in English louder. “What’s going on?”

“Everyone else stay seated,” John commands from where he had been standing near the front rows. So this was a coordinated “Or we’ll shoot her in the head.” Horst is nearest to Jakub, and grabs his arm to keep him in his seat.

“What is going on?” Gabrielle comes up the center aisle. She stops when Freddie shoves Sylvie hard into her path.

“I think someone has found out a little something about us. And has started plotting to throw us off the plane.”

“Throw them off the plane?” Laura says, confounded.

“What’s this?” Terenzio says, looking between them.

Freddie repositions the gun to press into Sylvie’s forehead. “Want to share with the class?”

Sylvie says nothing.

“Well?” John says. “If you and the captain thought it was so _important-”_

“Tell the truth,” Freddie digs the gun further into her forehead. Her heart is beating very fast.

“Yes. I remembered hearing about the story, I looked it up online when we leaving Kinloss. They’re criminals-”

“We didn’t do anything worse from others. It was a war.”

Sylvie looks straight at John “I suppose you think we should excuse multiple rapes and murders, then. Oh, and arson, there was also arson.”

A hush falls.

“It’s more complicated than that. Look, we’ll explain everything. Once we’ve taken off - with everyone aboard - from Alberta. We’ll explain our side of the story. I swear.”

“That must be some story,” Ayaz says darkly. Sylvie tries to shoot him a look without the others seeing.

“We _will_ explain.” Come up with a believable lie, more like. Like their lie about being left behind by accident.

Sylvie meets his eye. His expression falters to uncertainty. He knows she knows the truth.

“After Alberta,” he says. “Put your hands on your head.” John says. “Come on. Into the cockpit.” Sylvie obeys and Freddie shoves her forward.

Ayaz still looks like he wants to rise but Sylvie shoots him a look as she passes him. The gun presses hard into her head. Freddie stops at the front of first class, and John crowds in on her, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her nearly into the door. She starts to drop her hands to open it but John presses the gun in harder. “Don’t try anything,” he says firmly, reaching around to knock a pattern against the door. It opens.

Mathieu is reviewing charts. Roger is on his feet looking grave. Like he was expecting something like this. He steps aside to let them in.

Mathieu looks up and his eyes go wide with shock.

“It appears they know we know,” Sylvie says calmly in French. “And we are being hijacked for the second time tonight.” Mathieu goes very still.

“No more French,” John growls.

“Sorry,” Sylvie says.

“Jump seat. Now.” She sits down in the jump seat. Roger pulls a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket and hands them over to John. He grasps Sylvie’s arm, firmly pulling her hands down and cuffing her to the jump seat.

“What do you want from us?” Mathieu says evenly.

“We just want what everyone else wants. To survive the damn sun,” John spits back.

The violence comes out of nowhere. The gun strikes across her cheek with a loud crack. Her head whips to the side and she can’t help the sharp cry that escapes her. Mathieu jumps, starts to lunge to his feet.

Roger shoves him back down. “You’re going to fly. We’re going to land in Canada and fix the radio. We’re going to follow those bastards that left us behind and they’re going to let us into their shelter.”

“So you mean for us to be your hostages?” Mathieu asks.

“Exactly. Now, get ready to land. We wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt now, would we?”

Sylvie’s cheek throbs. She tastes blood. “No. No one else has to get hurt.”

“Good. Glad we’re in agreement.”

The lights of the airport are visible before them. They glide the aircraft smoothly down onto the runway, coming to a gradual stop and they turn off the engines.

Roger pulls another set of handcuffs out of his pockets. “Put your hands behind your back, around the seat.”

“Is this really necessary-”

“It is,” he says. “Since the two of you proved that you cannot be trusted.” He moves in a calculated way that shows the gun at his side. With a look back at Sylvie, Mathieu complies, allowing Roger to cuff his hands behind his back. It’s an odd angle, it looks like it pains him, but he keeps his jaw firmly set and his eyes at the sky ahead. “I’ll be back.” Roger steps out, closing the door behind him.

In the silence of the cockpit - eerily silent, now that the engines were powered down - Sylvie and Mathieu can do nothing but sit and wait.

“How did they figure it out?” Mathieu asks.

“I don’t know. I think they figured we’d find out eventually. They seemed pretty coordinated, like they’d planned this from the start.”

“They probably knew there was a risk of this.”

Sylvie nods. “Probably more suspicious than we anticipated.”

“Fuck. What do we do?”

Sylvie doesn’t have an answer.

Ayaz enters the cockpit, with a couple bottles of water. “Yes, yes, just a minute,” he’s saying, presumably to whichever one is guarding the door. He doesn’t quite shut it, but let’s it swing enough that it blocks them from view but doesn’t look intentional.

“Are you two all right?” he asks.

Sylvie shrugs. “That could have gone better.”

“Right. It could have. Could have gone worse, though."

“How are the other passengers?” Mathieu asks.

“Most are pretty scared, confused. I think they’ve won Terenzio onto their side, at least a little.”

“Damn. So they have all the guns.”

“Maybe this isn’t a bad thing,” Mathieu says. “Well, being hijacked again isn’t ideal, but if we can find the shelter that the other British soldiers were heading to, we’ll be safe too.”

Sylvie shrugs. “Good point. We have to hope they’ll let them in. And that they have the right coordinates.”

“They say they have an approximation. That once we fix the radio they mean to use us as leverage to force them to give over the precise location of their shelter.” Ayaz frowns. “It’s all risky. And I don’t like having men like this on board. What they did-”

“I know,” Sylvie interrupts Ayaz. “I know. But we don’t have a lot of options right now.”

“I don’t trust them to hold their tempers. Especially the young one. He’s been drinking. Getting a bit…cocky…”

“Just try to keep them calm,” Mathieu says. “Tell Gabrielle to hide as much of the alcohol as she can. And if we keep the passengers, especially the vulnerable ones, busy-”

Roger enters the cockpit. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yes,” Ayaz answers quickly. “I was bringing water. And asking if Sylvie needed anything for her face.”

It throbs, but she shakes her head. “No, I’m fine.”

“You’d better get back to your seat,” Roger says. “We’ll be taking off soon.” Ayaz leaves, with a final glance in Sylvie’s direction that promises he’ll do what it takes to protect the passengers. It’s not necessarily a comforting thought. They’re too outnumbered and outgunned, especially if Terenzio has been won over to the soldier’s side. Any attempt to take control of the aircraft might result in all of their deaths.

“We got the radio,” Roger says. “Your mechanic is working on installing it now.”

“Ah, good.”

“We can contact them. If we can get within range, we can contact the base and let them know about our little…situation. They’ll give us a more exact location.”

“So we’re hostages?”

“Well, yes, I suppose,” Roger says. “It’s rather lucky for you, actually.”

Mathieu’s brow furrows. “How-”

“Because if they knew where to go, they wouldn’t need live hostages. They could have just shot us, taken the plane and flown on.”

Roger glances back at Sylvie. “Well. That’s one way to put it.”

They knew roughly where this base is located, and turn north as they take off from Alberta.

“Cruising altitude,” Roger says, glancing again back at Sylvie. “We shouldn’t have any problems for a while, will we?” Mathieu does not answer. “Will we?” He presses.

“No,” he says. “No weather systems. Jakub checked over the engines before we took off from Kinloss. We shouldn’t have any problems, though we’ll have to land to refuel.”

“Ah, but we’ve got a while yet for that. And hopefully we’ll find what we’re looking for first.” He glances back yet again at Sylvie. There’s a look in his eye that she’s not sure she likes the look of. Her cheek throbs. “Hopefully we won’t have long.”

Roger sits back in the lefthand seat. He fidgets, like he’s impatient. Glances back at the cockpit door. Sylvie has started to sweat. It drips down the back of her neck.

“Why did you do it?” She asks impulsively, even knowing it’s the wrong thing to say. Mathieu tenses,

Roger glances back at her. For a second the calm, professional look fully drops away and she can see the monster lurking underneath. The mask slips back in place. “You know. No one’s ever asked me that. I suppose. It was because we could. We weren’t the only ones, you know. We were just foolish enough to get caught. Got a little too drunk, too sloppy when we burned the house. Caught red handed coming back to base.”

“I still don’t understand, how you could do that to people.”

Roger laughs a little, and glances back at Sylvie. It’s an ugly laugh. “Then I don’t know how to explain it to you.” The fly on in silence for a while. “It’s like a drug,” he says out of nowhere. “An addiction. It feels powerful. After being shit on for so long in training, shit on by superiors and you just have one moment, where you’re in control. Don’t you understand?”

They’re spared from having to answer by John bursting in the door.

“We’ve got the radio fixed. The range isn’t good, but I think we’ll be in range soon.”

Roger jumps up and goes to follow him out without another word, slamming the door hard behind him, leaving them alone.

“You shouldn’t have provoked him.”

“Probably not,” Sylvie says. “But he was getting tense, didn’t you see? It was going to break either way, better not to let it build up.”

“You think they’re capable of…”

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to find out.”

“The long we go on-”

“Then let’s hope they’re right about where we’re going,” Sylvie says. “So we don’t have to find out. Look, just concentrate on keeping us in the air, they’re not going to kill us-”

Roger returns to the cockpit. “Autopilot set? Good, follow me. Both of you.” He uncuffs Sylvie from the jump seat and drags her up, shoving them out ahead of him. The others are looking tense and drawn. Even Terenzio looks a bit awkward, still holding his rifle. Roger lingers in the cockpit door to monitor the autopilot.

John hops out of the hole in the floor. Jakub remains below with Horst, glancing up nervously at them. Sylvie nods at him, reassuring. Freddie’s the one holding the pistol, loosely in his hand. His cheeks are red, his eyes glassy. John holds out his hand for the weapon and he hands it over without question.

“And your phone,” he says to Ines.

“Why?” she responds.

“Just hand it over.”

She hesitates a minute longer, then unlocks and gives it to him. John types quickly on the phone, and then there’s a dial tone. A face fills the screen as the video call connects.

“Jesus Christ, Private,” the man on the other end says. “What have you done?”

“Only what we had to. Now you have your proof. We mean what we say. We’ve got hostages, civilians.”

“Is everyone all right?”

“Everyone’s fine-”

“No, I want to hear from one of the crew.”

“Everyone’s fine,” Gabrielle says. “We’ve had a few…fatalities early, accidents, but everyone’s fine now.” She nods, offering the man a faint smile.

“See?”

“All right, what do you want? The coordinates?”

“Exactly,” John says. “You’re going to let us into the shelter, which you should have just done in the first place. We’ll do that or,” He glances around at the passengers. “There will be more accidents.”

“What he means to say,” Freddie says, turning in a circle. “Is for every fifteen minutes you don’t give us the coordinates, we shoot one of our new friends here.”

“Jesus _Christ.”_

“Do you want to have to explain to the Belgians why a bunch of their civilians are dead?”

Sylvie has a hysterical thought that Belgium would have no way of knowing they had survived, unless they manage to find the plane, so that might not be the best leverage point - and the man on the screen seems to know it. He hesitates to give his answer.

“We’ll do it,” Freddie says into the camera. He laughs. “If you don’t let us in we’ll kill one hostage every fifteen minutes. Just try us.”

“Do you want their blood on your hands?” Roger says from behind them, still halfway in the cockpit.

The man on the screen sighs. “I’ll have to confer with our superiors-”

It happens too fast for anyone to react. John’s expression flickers for a moment and then he turns, raises the pistol and fires. The bullet enters Gabrielle’s head just above her eye and explodes out the back of her skull, sending blood and brain and bits of bone splattering across the seats.

Sylvie’s ears ring from the shock of the gunshot. Her heart pounds sickly. It’s as if time slows way down.

She becomes aware that Mathieu is gripping her arm painfully tight. That Ines is screaming. That Dominik is crying and Zara is bowed over him protectively. Even Freddie looks a little shocked, staring wide-eyed down at Gabrielle’s body.

Time picks back up. John turns to the camera. “We’re not bluffing. The coordinates. Fifteen minutes. Or we shoot another civilian.” He cuts the feed.

There a hand on her shoulder, pushing her backwards. Sylvie doesn’t even think to resist as Roger shoves them back into the cockpit.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry that was necessary.”

“Necessary?” Mathieu spits. “None of this has been necessary, you-” The monster inside Roger breaks through the mask again. A flash of rage takes over his face as he steps towards Mathieu and Sylvie is genuinely afraid of what he is about to do.

Sylvie puts herself between them, holding up her hands. “Don’t. Leave him alone. Come on, you just promised all the hostages would be alive for fifteen minutes. Come on.”

Roger backs off, scrubbing a hand over his face. “None of this would have happened if they had just let us on the plane in the first place. Those _bastards_ left us to die, they condemned us unfairly.”

“A lot of people died tonight,” Mathieu spits back.

“Let’s not make it more,” Sylvie says. Her heart is beating very fast. It’s all still catching up to her. The cool way that John had raised the gun and shot Gabrielle in the head.

Roger sighs. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

Mathieu is shaking as he takes his seat. “What do we do? What the fuck do we-”

“Stay calm,” Sylvie says firmly. “Yes? Just stay calm.”

“What, and watch them

She grabs his shoulder. His skin is hot, even though his shirt. “Are you all right?”

He laughs. “Of course not.”

Before Sylvie can ask to look at his hand, Roger returns, with John. “We have the coordinates now.”

“It seems they do care about having your blood on their hands,” John says. Sylvie keeps her hand on Mathieu’s shoulder, squeezing to keep him in the seat.

“We’ll be good from here. Make sure you let them know the same deal applies once we’re on the ground. Every fifteen minutes-”

“Got it.” John leaves them.

Roger programs the coordinates and sits back in his seat. “Good.” He laughs giddily. “This is working out better than I could have expected.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the vacation I had planned,” Sylvie responds. Well, except for the ‘ending in death’ part. That’s had been on the agenda. The rest of it though…

“What do you expect is waiting for you in whatever…shelter, bunker, whatever…that the British have taken refuge in?” Mathieu asks. “Huh? You think they’ll welcome you with open arms?”

Roger’s mask slips again, turning into cold rage. Sylvie’s heartbeat speeds up, she braces for further violence, but Roger just turns back towards the windshield.

“We’ll see.”

The shelter is far to the north, in a small town in the Yukon. The flight is smooth and uneventful. Roger seems even calm, relaxed, in contrast to Sylvie and Mathieu’s tension.

“What did you do with her body?” Mathieu asks out of nowhere at one point. “Gabrielle. What did you do with her?” Roger doesn’t answer him.

They land without further incident, only a bit of turbulence as they descend through the cloud layer. There’s some snow on the ground, and a few big jets off to the side, including one prominent British Air Force jet, but there’s no sign of any people.

As the noise of the engines quiet, they can hear John’s voice, “…fifteen minutes, the same deal.”

“You can’t keep doing this to us,” Ines is shouting. “Fuck you, this is bullshit-” Other voices, quieting her.

“Now we just have to see if they’ll give us directions without too much of a fight,” Roger says. A moment later, Freddie knocks on the door and opens it.

“We’ve got the instructions,” he says. “It’s time to go.”

Mathieu stands and starts to move but Roger stops him with a hand on his chest. “Not you.”

“What do you mean?” Sylvie asks.

“One more layer of security. You’ll stay here as insurance, to ensure that none of the passengers do anything foolish on our way. Freddie will be waiting at the base of the staircase. He doesn’t get confirmation of our safety, he doesn’t let you off the plane.”

“Are you insane?” Sylvie cries. Roger hasn’t actually specified if it were both of them, or just Mathieu, but at this point, she’s not intending on leaving anyone behind.

“As long as no one does anything stupid, as long as they let us in, then we’ll all have enough time to make it to safety before the sun rises.”

The passengers have learned about this last layer of manipulations and are just as upset about it as Sylvie is.

“You can’t do this,” Laura shouts. “We’ve done nothing to you, you cannot keep using us like this.”

“You’ve lost our trust. So we need a way to make sure we make it,” John says.

“We’ll be all safe together,” Freddie says. He seems drunker than before. He looks back towards Sylvie and gives her a lecherous half-smile that turns her stomach. And he’s meant to be guarding them. This seems a bad sign. “As long as everyone cooperates.”

John’s gaze moves to Freddie and he shakes his head. “Come on. We need to move quickly.”

“I’m not leaving them,” Jakub says in French. Horst, who had translated the plan for him, tries to get him to calm down. “This is ridiculous. I am not-”

“Hey!” Roger says. “If someone could explain to the Pole that we don’t have much time. And we have no time for arguing.” Horst continues to try and with Jakub.

Ayaz also looks like he’s not planning on budging. It’s Terenzio who faces him. “You heard what he said. We don’t have much time.”

“I know you’ve only ever thought of yourself-”

“Hey,” Terenzio says. “I saved us all.” Ayaz just turns and helps Osman yank open the door.

The argument between Horst and Jakub is getting more intense.

“Go,” Mathieu finally says. “Jakub, go.”

“They’re right,” Laura says. “We’re running out of time. They’re running out of time.”

Jakub hesitates a moment more then finally nods. “I’ll come back, if-”

“Let’s go,” John interrupts, shoving him towards the slide. “Move.”

The others all file out. Freddie is the last, grinning at them as he passes. “See you soon,” he says in a mocking tone.

When they’re gone, Roger makes them return to the cockpit. That’s almost a blessing, so they don’t have to see the bloodstain on the floor.

Roger takes the cuffs in one hand and gestures with him. “In the seats. Go.”

Mathieu nearly collapses, exhausted, into the right hand seat, but Sylvie doesn’t sit. She’s met her breaking point.

“If you’re going to go, just go,” she says. “Leave us.”

“Can’t risk you following us.”

“Risk…you piece of shit. We saved your life, and now you’re going to condemn us,” she spits. “You should just kill us now, save us the trouble of waiting.”

“You-” Roger grabs her arm hard. “I won’t. In fact, I’m really hoping you’ll survive. Now sit down.”

She doesn’t back down, meeting his gaze defiantly. His hand goes to the pistol at his belt. “I _was_ hoping you’d survive…”

“Sylvie.” Her name is a plea out of Mathieu’s mouth. She holds her stance for another second before backing down and sitting in the seat. Mathieu relaxes.

“Good,” Roger says, slipping back into the professional, almost apologetic act. He cuffs their wrists together, threading the cuffs through the armrests so they are fully secured. “I’ll give the key to the guards once we’re let into the shelter and promised safety. You should only hope your passengers know that if they do anything foolish, they’ll be killing you.”

“I think you’ve made that quite clear.”

Then they are left alone.

“Sorry,” Mathieu says after a moment. “Sorry, I know I probably should have stood up…should have made a stand, but…God, after Gabrielle…”

Sylvie softens. “I understand.” Mathieu doesn’t want to see any more death. Well, if they’re refused entry to the bunker, they’ll die anyways. But at least not with blood sprayed across his cockpit. She glances out the windshield. Freddie stands, with a pistol loose in his hand.

She wonders if it will hurt. Or if it will be like when Henri went, a quiet slipping away. It seemed that the bodies she’d seen all just fell where they were. That didn’t seem so bad. A gunshot would have been instantaneous too, but yes, it would have been messy. She didn’t, if she were being honest, relish the thought of her brains sprayed out over the instrument panel.

Sylvie glances over. “Are you all right?”

Mathieu looks grey, pale. “Fine. It’s hot in here, no?” She’d been just thinking that it had been cold.

“Are you _sure_ you’re all right?”

Mathieu laughs. “No. But it won’t matter much, in a few minutes. I hope the others made it in.”

“They still might make it back for us.” Sylvie looks at him again and then out the windows. The sky looks like it might be lightening. “They wouldn’t leave Freddie behind anyways.” He might have left by now. This may have all been a ruse to kill them, to draw it out and punish them for being the ones for plotting against them. The more she thinks of it, the more it makes sense. As the horizon lightens at the edges, she doesn’t want to look out the window to check.

“You know, I was going to kill myself,” she says out of nowhere. Mathieu glances over at her, looking surprised. “I lied. Earlier. I wasn’t kicked out of the air force. I was on leave. Well, I went on leave without much intention to return, so, I guess I sort of quit in a way.” She tells him about Henri. How they met, how fast the illness had progressed from just being tired, to him just being gone. How it felt like she’d been broken, never to be put back together. “We had booked this trip as like…a last hurrah. I thought, after he died, I’d take it anyways. Bring his ashes, scatter them. Then I’d find some way to kill myself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s ironic, I know. I get on this damn plane to try and kill myself and it ends up saving my life.”

“You getting on this plane saved all our lives. Really, if you hadn’t…”

“I know. I told Jakub, it was a purpose. It was a reason to live, just for that next moment. It was something. I felt like I didn’t want to die so much.” She sighs. “I even wanted to make it to the shelter. Too bad.”

“There’s still time.”

“Not much. You’re right. I haven’t entirely given up but…” She laughs. “Stupid. I’m getting exactly what I wanted, and now I don’t want it anymore.”

They fall to silence again.

“I’m glad you were here,” Mathieu says. “Really. I’m glad we survived this far at least. Even if it’s over now.”

She nods, gives him a faint smile. “Me too. I think.”

The sky is definitively lighter now. Mathieu shuts his eyes, letting his head drop back against the seat. Sylvie finds herself tracing over the instruments with her free hand, absentmindedly drawing circles around the dials to avoid looking out at the coming day. Then there is a sound. Footsteps. They sit up straighter.

“Do you think…”

“Could be Freddie…” She doesn’t want to think about what he could be coming back for. She tenses, ready to fight even if she was shacked to the flight column.

But instead of Freddie, an unfamiliar English soldier rushes into the cockpit, two following. He has the key clutched in his hand.

“Oh,” Sylvie says, surprised. They actually kept their word, and sent rescues to them.

“I do have to apologize for our compatriots.” The soldier quickly moves to unlock the handcuffs. “But we don’t have quite enough time for me to express my full sympathies here. Quickly.”

They move fast, flanked by British soldiers. The sky is turning a shade of pale blue at the edges. They’re all glancing worryingly to the east, urging them on. The air has taken on that clear crispness of the early morning.

They cross the runway to a path in the trees and follow it to what looks like little more than a shack in the forest. But inside that shack is a spiral staircase, winding deep into the Earth.

“This way,” the English soldier leads them on. “We’ve got plenty of room and supplies down here. Enough to save most of our base, some civilians from the town. We didn’t…we didn’t want to endanger them by bringing along three murderers. As commander, I made the decision to condemn themI never thought another aircraft would come along for them.”

“It was the closest airport that was safe enough to land,” Mathieu explains. “We were running out of fuel.”

“Bad luck, then.” They’ve reached the bottom of the staircase. There’s a narrow tunnel before them, with a door at the end.

“What are you going to do with them now?”

The commander sighs. “I don’t know. Unfortunately we gave them our word they would be safe and unconfined, in exchange for your lives. We’ll have to keep a close eye on them, keep them away from the most vulnerable.”

He raps twice on the door and it swings open. They emerge into what looks like a massive, underground bunker. It’s filled with people, with chaos. There are tunnels branching off. It seems like an extensive operation. There’s no telling how many people, from how many nations are gathered here.

“Oh my God, they actually made it.” The other passengers are safe here as well, anxiously gathered to wait for them. Jakub rushes forward to embrace them.

“Welcome to the Base. We’ve got everything we need down here to survive, reinforced concrete and a thick reservoir of water to protect us from the sun. We’re going to fix this and in the meantime, we’re going to survive down here.” The commander grins. “We may need your help.”

**Author's Note:**

> I believe this is my longest of the whumptober prompts. I just really got into the potential in the British soldiers sticking around and being more of a problem a bit longer. I even like...sort of have an idea for a continuation, in this other bunker, but who knows if I'll actually get around to writing it. Most things I write in this fandom are 'entirely unexpected' because I certainly never expected to write this much in so small a fandom, based on a weird show about an apocalypse on an airplane with only six episodes of content, but I'm having a great time.
> 
> I have a few other whumptober prompt fills for 'Into the Night' (5 others, to be specific), so apologies for dominating the tag for the next few weeks. As always, please comment or kudos if you enjoyed this story. It's a little like presenting a gift to the Void in a fandom this small, so it's always nice to hear that someone else is out there. :-) But even if you don't feel comfortable commenting or kudos-ing, I hope you enjoy! <3


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